Epiphany
by e.sakano
Summary: [tsubasa reservoir chronicle] [shounen-ai] A mixture of pain, hope and denial on his face, he forced his hand away from the sleeping boy's face and turned away. A whispered sentence slips out of his mouth, only to be torn apart, unheard, by the wind. (ps,


AU, as I haven't read past halfway through the second manga…….. But well, yeah, this has been jumping around my mind since ~ ^^;;;

onegai ne? be kind? This is my first tsubasa fic………. And it's taken me a while to screw up the nerve to put it up………….

and oh yeah, welcome to the fragmented works of my admittedly weird mind~ enjoy and don't forget to review ~.^

disclaimer: I do not, in anyway own tsubasa: reservoir chronicles (if I did, we'd seen more angst, more Tomoyo, and more Eriol ^^)

-Epiphany-

by: amirynn

He watches the boy unobtrusively.

Day in and day out, he spends his time noting the boy's quirks, his habits, his tendencies, everything that could be important in every way, or no way. He doesn't recall when he started, or why he started; all he knows is that he was now more interested in the boy's lifestyle than he had been in anything else.

He knows that the boy is no mere archaeologist, despite what the teen had claimed at the beginning of their adventures together: the teen moves to well to spend all his time digging through dirt and stone. He also knows that there is something else that haunts the boy, for when he gazes at the girl he swore to rescue, something odd, something like guilt would fill that amber gaze. He even knows when this new emotion, this guilt began to surface, and he knows who the reason is as well: Hiiragizawa Eriol, from the "Earth" dimension.

He doesn't know what passed between the two, Eriol and Syaoran. He knew of Eriol's relationship with the Hsiao Lan of that dimension, of course, it was obvious by the meticulous care awarded to the shrine in the distant tower of the man-child's oversized mansion. Even now, he wonders about that brief flash of emotion he had felt, but he does not try to find out, a small part of him is afraid of what its meaning could be.

Never-the-less, it was Eriol's fault-whether because he propositioned Syaoran, caused the boy to think too much, or even just raised doubts in the teen's mind, he does not know, nor does he want too, now- then he did, he had even gone so far as to question the boy lightly about it.

The teen had recoiled as though struck, though his tone had been light, and the conversation carefully leading to that one question. Hurt, for some unfathomable reason, he had withdrawn and apologized. Despite the boy's sudden attempts to apologize as soon as he had withdrawn, he had walked away.

Later, as he had been staring out the window pensively, the boy had walked in, his eyes screaming for forgiveness though his tone and body language only transmitted what his words of apology gave. Considerably calmer, he had accepted the teen's apology, then changed the subject. It had taken several days, but soon it was truly forgotten and the boy's eyes lost the touch of self-accusal they had been carrying since their slight argument.

It was moments like that that reminded him of Syaoran's fierce loyalty. His heart bled for the boy, who's soul was there for those who understood how to read it, but he understood the steel and resolve that only grew more determined as time passed.

As the weeks, then months passed by, he'd slowly felt himself growing closer to the boy- and their other travelling companion, though mostly just the boy. In fact, it soon wasn't an uncommon sight for the two to leave the last person of their party watching Sakura a safe distance away as they walked together, exchanging information about their worlds. However, there were still many instances where he felt a distance wider than any between them: every time another feather's location was found.

When that happened the boy would go distant. It was only in times like these, when gaining a feather could mean risking life and limb, that the boy would lose the cool analytical thinking that he had first recognized in him; but still, Syaoran would never risk their lives if it could be helped. However, sometimes he couldn't help it, he would have to step in for the teen's sake. Or maybe it was for his own sake, he wasn't sure anymore.

But after that visit to Earth, the distance that used to be isolated to those feather findings began to extend to their normal lives. Previously chatter-filled moments where slowly infiltrated by awkward silences. Confused, he had chosen to ignore them, but when they had fallen onto the trails of two feathers in this world, the distance suddenly magnified: the teen had begun to avoid him.

He didn't understood, nor could he puzzle it out. Despite his knowledge of the boy's behaviour, likes, dislikes, habits, and psyche, Syaoran was still an enigma wrapped in a mystery. A mystery that his life had somehow began revolving around.

Blue eyes snapped open as the tall, lithe, and oddly beautiful man came upon a realisation that thoroughly shocked him, one that was so improbable that he had never come upon it before. His gaze was troubled as he mulled the thought over in his mind, then finally, he shifted his eyes to look upon the teen sleeping close to him.

Arms around a seemingly sleeping girl, the boy's face was tranquil in sleep. Messy caramel locks framed that sleeping face, then intermingled with the girl's chocolate strands as he buried his face into her neck. Hesitantly, the older man reached a hand out and let it hover on top of the boy's face, the moment, and silence, broken when their last companion suddenly turned over.

His heart full of dread, he forces his way through the final barrier between him and that unidentifiable emotion. His mind screams in denial when he recognizes the emotion, his heart fills with pain, sorrow and an almost perverse hope as he forces himself to accept it, and in his mind, one thought runs rampant.

A mixture of pain, hope and denial on his face, Fye forced his hand away from the sleeping boy's face and turned away. A whispered sentence slips out of his mouth, only to be torn apart, unheard, by the wind.

****

-owari-

Ano ne, what'cha think? :hopeful eyes: (and please be truthful?)


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